RuneScape Forum Archive | Aeternum Ascended

tmac attack

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There existed an extreme reverence that the Aristocracy, which consisted of the Senators and Counselors, the powerful Guild Masters or Privateers, and the highest divisions of the military command, held for the Order of the Sun and the Magus—it was subtly religious, though not in the sense as a devotion to an abstract deity, but rather an awe for something that felt supernatural yet appeared tangible and emitted a physical presence. Thus, a sense of respect has developed over the course of thousands of years in Ambros as the once isolated and outcast “Invictus* as the Order, the Magus, and all other disciplines are referred to as in the common tongue, found an increasingly integrative relationship with and throughout the human societies.

The fact that the infrequent members of the audience showed such vexation, however, was oddly ignored by the customary Aristocrats and the heavily reverent servants of the Order. Rather, the High Keeper himself was basking in this pious birth—his eyes were closed and his mouth open, as if he had entered a meditative trance. In his perception, this was of the same degree of passion as witnessing the birth of a son, and such sincere joy brought him to the brink of a blissful, emotional outpour. It was paradoxical that at the Trial of the most precious member of the Order, the taboo seemed to dissolve away, dwarfed by the sheer anticipation and the admiration held by the Aristocracy.

The light had now reached its zenith as the rising platform came to a standstill. The blinding flare traveled in almost spherically now, as the entity from below became visible. The figure was dauntingly large, even as it was kneeling. Eyes winced as the brazen light exhaled one final wave of flame, and then simmered to a modest aura that encompassed only the perimeter of the body itself, revealing the humanoid figure. Still, no one spoke amongst the observers.

22-Jul-2015 09:28:33 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:51:52 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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“We bare witness in the

Eyes of Verena, that we

are Humbled; that we are

Grateful; that we are forever

Servants as She Bestows

This Righteous Crusader;

Rise Now, Brutus Solaras,

Justicator of the Order."

A giant amongst men, he rose. Standing eight feet and six inches, Brutus towered over those around him, and not an ounce of debate was ever struck across the lands of Ambrose as to who was the tallest on the planet—the answer was automatically established. Resting atop two boulder sized shoulders and a neck comparably as thick as a small tree trunk, his head possessed radically cut features. A chiseled, well-proportioned jawline converged into a firm and somewhat globular chin; a brownish blonde stubble styled beard ran along his face and neck. His cheek bones rose high and were well pronounced as to the extent to cast a shadow directly above his nasal fold. The muscles in his eyebrow ridge were amply large. His supraorbital margin, the bone rim directly above the eye socket, protruded outward as to pull the skin with it, but conservatively enough to appear elegant, not bestial. His hair in the back and sides of his head was short enough to remain rigid and in place—his front, however, sprouted long and dazzling hairlines that swayed upward and hung to the side, with the occasional one noticeably dangling in front of his eyes. It was a light golden in color at rest, but as the aura of the Sun hovered along his body, his hair glowed a vivid white, with a more modest outline of burning gold and orange, like the flares of the sun. Typically, Brutus was distinguished by piercing sapphire-sky blue eyes, a product of his mother’s, but in the current state, only scorching, glowing white globes emanated in its place. He wore nearly nothing, as the Trial in the under crypts permits no armor to be worn—the warriors must combat the darkness nearly unclothed.

22-Jul-2015 09:28:35 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:54:54 by tmac attack

tmac attack

Posts: 444 Silver Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The sole attire on his body was the scratchy, stained beige pants that were ragged and torn—and a wrapping material that covered the fleshy portion of his hands and his wrists, to assist in gripping the dismayingly large battle hammer.

His barreling chest rose and compressed as he inhaled and exhaled heavy breaths. Every muscle on his torso and arms was exaggeratingly well defined, arguably to an inhuman nature—elaborate crests and concaves where thick flesh met bone were so prevalent through his body as a result of the vigorous conditioning he has received that has ultimately sculpted his frame, it could registered as absurdly hyperbolic. No one appeared as he did—he was dazzling, handsome, grossly large and powerful. Rivers of broad veins navigated his skin, pulsing heavy and metrically, resembling an organic mechanized system. Bulbs of sweat trickled down his arches, spilled into his valleys, and fell heavily to the ground. Various wounds covered his arms, chest, and back—some fresh with crimson blood, others dried and crusted.

In his right hand, he wielded his hammer, holding it so that the head lay against the ground and the handle stuck upward. It was said to weigh more than several fully grown men, and was feared equally as it was renowned, bearing the name, ‘Mais-Ocula, Her Majesty’s Justice’.

His voice possessed an enormous degree of authority as it reverberated through the arena. It was not necessarily deep, certainly not as hoarse as Maxentius’, but instead, well annunciated. It had large wavelengths for a voice, however, deeper than most men, but poetically audible and clear as he spoke, “In Her name, and only Hers, I serve in this Life, Unto Death.”

22-Jul-2015 09:30:30 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:54:02 by tmac attack